


Grief

by Ellie226



Series: You, Me, and Baby Make Three [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Infantilism, Multi, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:42:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226





	Grief

They had been living together for well over a year before Dave’s family came to visit them. Sure, they’d been back to Lima in that time, but the only relatives who had come to visit them were Burt and Carol (several times), and Finn. 

Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky had come down for the weekend, and things went relatively well. They were impressed to see that Dave had learned how to cook passably well, and they enjoyed wandering around the city. Although they hadn’t really understood what was going on when Dave brought both Kurt and Blaine home, they were clearly trying. 

These efforts had not extended to being able to stay in the apartment. It was too much for them. So, they went back to their hotel at night, which gave the boys some much needed privacy.

Blaine and Dave had agreed that this was for the best. Neither of them wanted to upset or overwhelm Kurt, and he was used to being able to act like a child most of the time now. 

So every night, Kurt was cuddled and bathed. He had the chance to play with his toys and have stories read to him. All in all, it seemed like the weekend went well.

On Sunday, Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky left for Lima immediately after brunch. While the three men were working to clean up their apartment and finish the tasks they normally spent all weekend on, Kurt wandered off.

He’d been acting a little bit weird since watching Dave give his mother a hug good bye, but neither Daddy nor Papa had really noticed it. Kurt was just being a little quieter than usual. 

When Papa realized that Kurt was no longer dusting the living room, as he had been instructed to do, he didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until his second pass through the living room, close to 15 minutes later, that he stopped to wonder where Kurt was.

He didn’t have to look hard. The apartment was small, and Kurt was just laying in their bed. He had pulled the covers over his head, and he was rocking himself a little. 

Dave sat on the bed, laying one gentle hand on Kurt’s back. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you sleepy?”

“No,” Kurt sounded little.

“What are you doing in bed then?”

Kurt made a noncommittal noise, shrugging a little bit. Sighing, Dave kicked off his sneakers and then slid under the covers next to Kurt. Pulling the comforter up over him, he looked at his boyfriend.

Kurt was curled up tightly around Beau Bunny, and he’d wrapped his blanket around both of them. With his fingers in his mouth and the blanket rubbing his nose, he was rocking. 

“What are we doing under here pumpkin?” Daddy asked, whispering.

Kurt stopped rocking and looked at Dave for a moment. After considering his boyfriend’s face, he responded. “Thinking.”

“Is it easier to think under the covers?”

Kurt nodded, resuming the gentle rocking motion, and Dave reached out with both arms to pull Kurt to him. Holding him, they rocked together.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I like your parents,” Kurt continued to whisper.

“That’s good. They like you too.”

“Your mommy’s nice.”

Dave couldn’t tell what this was about, but something was weird. “Kurt, what’s wrong?”

That was when Blaine walked into the bedroom. He had been busy cleaning until he realized that he was the only one. Joining the other two under the sheets, he also hugged Kurt. “Are we making a fort?” he asked, not sure why they were hiding.

Kurt nodded, not sure what to say. Blaine peered at Dave over Kurt’s head, trying to figure out what was going on, but Dave didn’t know either.

Suddenly, Kurt sat up. Throwing the blanket off of himself, he crawled down the middle of the bed to the foot, and then stood up. “I have to go dust,” he said, walking out of the room.

“What was that?” Blaine asked.

Dave, who had sat up as Kurt left, lay back down, running his hand across his face. “I have no fucking clue. He was just in here. He talked a little about my parents, and then you came in.”

He turned to say something else, but then they heard a crash from the living room. They both jumped up, racing to see what had happened.

What they found, was Kurt standing near a broken lamp. Next to the lamp was the superball Dave had confiscated two days before because Kurt refused to stop playing with it in the house.

Kurt’s eyes were wide, and he had pulled his lower lip between his teeth, biting a little. 

“What happened?” Blaine asked, his voice even.

Meanwhile, Dave had stopped in the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest, he was giving Kurt a look. Kurt stared at the ground.

“An accident?” he offered.

“Did you accidentally go through the no no drawer Kurt?” Blaine asked him. “Because I know Papa took that ball away from you.”

Kurt scuffed his toe against the ground. He hated the stupid no no drawer that was only for Daddy and Papa and never for Kurt. It had everything good in it that Kurt wasn’t allowed to play with. 

“I wanted it.”

“But that drawer is off limits for little boys. Isn’t it Kurt?” Blaine still sounded patient. He figured it was better for Kurt to acknowledge that he had done wrong before they ever got to the punishment, and Blaine was somehow able to talk to Kurt without letting himself get turned around.

Dave, who had spent far too much time getting lost in debates with Kurt, had a slightly different approach, “You don’t go through that drawer Kurt. And you know it,” stalking over to him, Papa grabbed Kurt by one arm, “That was very, very bad,” he told him, swatting him harshly twice. 

Kurt shrieked and pulled away, both hands flying back to cover his backside protectively. “It’s mine!” he yelled at Papa.

Blaine didn’t have a chance to intervene before Dave had grabbed Kurt and bent him across his hip. “You don’t go through that drawer,” he said, swatting Kurt hard every other word. “You listen to what we tell you,” he continued, “And you do not yell at us. Is that understood young man?”

Kurt had been squirming and yelping as he got spanked, and he nodded quickly. He understood. He didn’t want Papa to keep spanking him anymore. 

Releasing Kurt, he gave him one final swat toward the kitchen. “Go and get the broom and dustpan so we can clean this up,” he ordered.

Kurt ran into the kitchen, doing what he was told. Papa was strong, and his hands were big. Kurt did not like it when Papa spanked him, and he didn’t want to give him any reason to spank him anymore.

When he got back into the living room, he tried to skirt around both of his boyfriends so that he could clean up without getting any further punishment. Blaine stopped him. 

“Come here please,” he was instructed, Blaine’s voice was its usual pleasant tone.

Kurt came over to stand in front of Blaine, who was giving him a very definite Look that Kurt had no interest in seeing.

“Are you supposed to go through that drawer Kurt?”

Kurt shook his head no, and Blaine cleared his throat.

“No Daddy,” Kurt said, forcing himself to actually talk.

“Are you supposed to get stuff for yourself when Daddy or Papa has taken it away?”

“No Daddy.”

“Are you allowed to yell at us?”

Kurt’s eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head no again. “No Daddy,” he whispered.

“And what do you think should happen to a little boy who does all of those naughty things?”

Kurt’s lip trembled, and he slowly slid both of his hands back to protect his backside. “Write lines?” he finally said hopefully.

“You think lines are enough?” Blaine asked him.

“If the little boy was really sorry and wouldn’t do it again?” Kurt looked up at Blaine, his expression pleading.

Against his better judgement, Blaine nodded. “Lines and time out I think. I’d like you to go and sit on the naughty seat where we can see you please.”

Kurt slowly began the long trek to the corner. The naughty seat in the living room had been hidden away while Papa’s family had been visiting, but someone had pulled it out of the closet and put it back. 

On his way, Kurt detoured over to stand in front of Papa, who still looked pretty irritated. Before either of them could tell Kurt to go to time out again (and it was never a good idea to make them tell him twice), Kurt mumbled an apology.

“Sorry Papa. Sorry I was bad,” he was quiet, but Dave could hear a little break in his voice, and he couldn’t help but pull Kurt into a hug.

“Thank you for apologizing pumpkin,” he squeezed Kurt tightly for a moment, and then released him with another swat. “Now do what Daddy told you to please.”

Kurt was genuinely sorry, and he had anticipated that he would still be sent to time out. However, he was still disappointed that he was right about that. Kurt hated time out with a passion. In part, it was just the juvenile aspect of the punishment. This was especially true as Daddy and Papa made Kurt sit on the naughty seat for one minute for every year of age. And although 25 minutes was not that long, Kurt hated every single second of it. And then, to top it off, Kurt hated the seat They had found it at an antique shop shortly after starting this little experiment, and it was really uncomfortable.

Bar stool height, there was no place for Kurt to rest his feet. Which meant that they simply had to hang. The seat was woven seagrass; it was old, and the grass was not smooth or comfortable to sit on. Especially when one was not wearing pants. Although Daddy and Papa did not always insist that Kurt spend time out without any bottoms, it happened. Especially if he had been recently spanked. The rough seagrass coupled with Kurt being unable to relieve any pressure by resting his feet made for an uncomfortable experience. And, there was no back, so Kurt had to sit up straight with no support.

Plus, it was ugly. And although that was never Kurt’s primary concern when he was forced to go to time out, he did object to it on principle. He had argued this with Blaine on more than one occasion, and Daddy had finally spanked him over it several weeks ago. 

It wasn’t like the naughty seat in the bedroom was any better, but at least they mostly kept that one out of sight. Small enough to be more of a step stool, Daddy liked to keep it tucked away under the bed. Kurt still hated it, but at least he didn’t have to look at it as a daily reminder of what happened when he was bad.

Daddy had been emphatic that the naughty seat was not going anywhere, nor was it going to change. Kurt just had to deal with that. Kurt disagreed with that, but he had yet to come up with a good way of disposing of it without Daddy figuring him out.

He sighed about all of this, including how badly it clashed with their overall decor, as he climbed up onto the seat and sat down. Back straight, he stared directly at the wall with his hands folded in his lap. 

He could hear Papa cleaning up the lamp, and that made time out even worse. Because now, Papa had to fix his mess, and Kurt just had to listen. And that made Kurt feel even guiltier. He would have turned around to tell Papa that, but all that would have lead to was the clock starting over on timeout.

Instead, Kurt focused on the wall and tried not to cry. This was made harder when he heard Daddy sit down on the couch. 

Daddy almost never watched him in time out anymore. Mostly, Daddy and Papa expected Kurt to sit and do what he was told. Which didn’t mean that they didn’t randomly check in on him, but they didn’t just stare at his back while he sat there.

Daddy doing that meant that he didn’t trust Kurt to behave himself right now, even with a freshly spanked bottom. And Kurt hated it.

Blaine knew how much Kurt hated it; that was why had had chosen to sit there. Short of leaving the apartment, which Kurt wasn’t going to try again, he had to stay in time out. He wasn’t stupid; Kurt knew if he didn’t sit quietly, the punishment just escalated. It was symbolic; Kurt was acting too badly behaved for Daddy to trust that he could be left alone, even for a minute.

So Blaine watched Kurt’s back for 25 minutes; Dave left the room to finish cleaning. He hated time out with the naughty seat almost as much as Kurt did. When he was with Kurt alone, and they had trouble, and he thought Kurt needed time to think, he normally made Kurt lay in bed without his blanket or Beau. Although it occasionally meant an unintentional nap, it also meant that Dave didn’t have to just watch him be miserable. And, Dave figured that although a nap might be unplanned, if Kurt fell asleep, then it wasn’t unneeded. Especially when Kurt was acting naughty.

When the time was finally up, Kurt’s shoulders were bowed, and he was making the occasional convulsive sniffle. 

Daddy called him over, and Kurt was quick about it. He practically ran to stand in front of Blaine.

Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hands and waited until he made eye contact.

“Are you going to stay out of the no no drawer little boy?” he asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Are you going to yell at Papa or I again?”

“No sir.”

“What about listening? Are you going to be a good little boy for us?”

Kurt sniffled at that, but he responded, “Yes Daddy. I promise.”

“Good boy. What do you say?”

“Sorry Daddy.”

“Thank you. Come here, give Daddy a hug,” Blaine held his arms out, and Kurt was quick to accept the comfort. Blaine was still seated, and the position was awkward for a hug, but Kurt desperately wanted that contact. 

After a minute, Blaine pulled back so that he was more comfortable, and then he gave a tug to Kurt’s hands, wanting to cuddle with him for a bit. Kurt was more than happy to oblige, and they sat in silence for a little bit, Kurt half on Daddy’s lap, and his fingers slipping into his mouth. 

Just as Blaine was thinking that it was time for Kurt to get up and do his lines, a little snore escaped Kurt’s mouth. Looking down, Blaine realized that Kurt had fallen fast asleep.

Hoping that Kurt’s odd behavior this afternoon was just because he was tired, Blaine decided to let him sleep. They could talk more later, and there would be time for lines before dinner. He waited on the couch for Kurt to wake up.

When Kurt was still sleeping 30 minutes later, he began whispering for Dave. It took a while, since Blaine didn’t want to wake Kurt up, but Dave finally heard him and came. 

“Can you pick him up and put him in bed?” Blaine asked, indicating the still sleeping man on his lap.

Dave nodded, but he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket first.

“No,” Blaine told him, his voice somehow a whisper and the no-nonsense tone that Kurt had learned to obey.

With a smirk, Dave snapped the photograph, “I can’t help it,” he replied. “I need photographic evidence that he can be good or I’ll forget the next time we have a bad day.”

With that, he slid the phone back into his pocket (so that Blaine couldn’t delete the picture), and then he picked Kurt up and carried him to bed. Laying him down carefully, Papa covered him up with his blanket. He made sure to snag Beau Bunny and leave him right next to Kurt as well.

Once he was sure that Kurt was comfortably situated, he smoothed the hair off of his forehead one last time, and then he walked out to the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Blaine.

Entwining their fingers together, both men sat in silence for several minutes. However, since they were rarely alone together, Dave figured they should really talk about earlier. Kurt would wake up soon, and then they wouldn’t have had a chance to have a grown ups only conversation.

“What do you think set him off this time?” he asked, not looking at Blaine.

Blaine, who had moved himself until he was resting his head in Dave’s lap, looked up to make eye contact. He thought for a moment. Just as he was opening his mouth to say something, Kurt cried out.

Dave was halfway to the bedroom before he even really processed what was going on, and Blaine was sitting on the floor, rubbing the spot on his head that he’d banged against the coffee table when he was so unceremoniously shoved off of Dave’s lap.

Dave gave him a guilty look, torn between wanting to see what was wrong with Kurt and make sure that Blaine was okay.

Before he could make the decision, Kurt gave another cry, and Blaine made a quick shooing motion. Dave gratefully continued toward the bedroom.

When he opened the door, he found Kurt curled up in a ball, talking in his sleep. He mostly was mumbling, but he occasionally made a very loud noise. None of it seemed to wake him up in the slightest.

This was a new trick. Kurt occasionally had sleep conversations, but they were always hilarious. He’d once explained to Blaine that the spaghetti had to come out of the bathtub so that there was room for the gnomes. They were apparently going to stage a rebellion because they couldn’t breathe with all the honey. They still hadn’t figured out what that was about.

Sitting down on the bed next to Kurt, Dave placed on hand on his shoulder and gave a firm shake. “Wake up Kurt. You’re having a nightmare.”

Kurt jumped at the intrusion, but then he woke up. Blinking up at Dave, he scrubbed at both of his eyes with his fists. “Why’d you wake me up Papa?” he finally asked.

Blaine, who had finally made his way to the doorway, answered for Dave. “You were yelling Kurt.”

Kurt shook his head. “No I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were,” Blaine told him patiently. “You were having a nightmare.” Crossing the room, he sat on Kurt’s other side. “Do you remember what it was about?”

Kurt got an odd look on his face, but then he shook his head no. Rolling back onto his side, he closed his eyes again.

Dave looked at Blaine, then mouthed, “You want this one?” 

Blaine was typically better at getting Kurt to talk about whatever was bothering him. Kurt would go to Papa when he hurt himself, or if he wanted cuddles. But it was always Daddy when he was just feeling sad or upset somehow.

Blaine nodded at Dave, and the other man quietly excused himself.

“Kurt, baby, will you tell Daddy what’s bothering you?”

“I’m fine,” Kurt mumbled around his fingers.

“Sweetpea, it’s okay. You can tell Daddy. Whatever it is, I want to help.”

“I’m just tired Daddy.”

Recognizing that Kurt really wasn’t going to talk to him right now, Blaine decided to let it go. That didn’t mean that Kurt could keep sleeping though. He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep tonight if they let that happen.

“Time to get up kiddo; you’re going to have trouble falling asleep tonight if you nap anymore today. You need to go sit at the table and write your lines for me please.”

“Don’t want to,” Kurt replied, eyes still firmly closed.

Blaine had grabbed both of Kurt’s hands, and he pulled him up to sitting, “That’s good. That’s what makes it work.”

“Noooooooooo Daddy. I don’t wannnnnnnt toooooooo,” Kurt made himself as boneless as possible.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, “I seem to recall certain promises about being a good little boy for us today. Have you already forgotten? Because I think that we’ll need to see if getting your bottom warmed helps you remember any better.”

Kurt’s eyes opened at that, but he narrowed them at Blaine. “That’s not fair,” he argued.

“It’s not fair that we’re enforcing the rules?” Blaine asked him.

“I don’t like lines.”

Blaine had had enough of this. He wasn’t going to keep arguing. Rather than telling Kurt that though, he started counting. “One.”

Kurt pouted, not moving.

“Little boys who aren’t at the table by the time I reach three are going to be writing their lines while sitting on a sore bottom. Two.”

Kurt jumped up and ran to the kitchen table. Throwing himself in the chair, he waited for his notebook and a pen. Dave watched him with a puzzled look on his face, but then he saw Blaine walking out of the bedroom.

Blaine didn’t look happy. Kurt had apparently pushed him far enough for the day, and Dave sincerely hoped for all of their sakes that Kurt would recognize that and stop.

Sitting next to Kurt at the table, Daddy opened his punishment binder and wrote out what he wanted Kurt to copy. 

I will not go into the no no drawer.

I will use my nice voice when I talk to Daddy and Papa.

I will be obedient.

“I want each of those 50 times please,” Blaine slid the binder in front of Kurt. Daddy didn’t bother to wait for a response; he stood up and left.

Kurt stared at the lines. It shouldn’t take that much time. They had to be in good handwriting, but Kurt would be done in about two hours. Sighing, he decided to just get down to work.

He underestimated; Kurt had forgotten that he would have to take breaks as his hand cramped up. Regardless, he finished all of his lines in under 3 hours. He triple checked that he had all 150 lines. Once, he’d tried to turn in fewer than Daddy told him to, and Daddy had spanked him and made him start over from the beginning.

Determining that he had finished everything, Kurt quietly stood up and walked out to the living room where Daddy and Papa were lounging on the couch.

Blaine smiled at him, “Are you all done sweetpea?” he asked.

Kurt nodded, and Blaine held out his hand. After checking to make sure that everything was done, he handed the binder back to Kurt.

“You know where it goes. Come back once it’s been put away.”

Kurt went to do what he’d been told. When he got back to the living room, he tried to go and play with his toys. Papa snagged his arm on the way there though, and he made Kurt sit on his lap.

Hugging Kurt, Papa rested his chin on Kurt’s shoulder. “What would you like to do now pumpkin?” he asked. They had talked while Kurt was writing lines, and both men agreed it would be better if Kurt stayed nearby until he told them what was going on.

And if Kurt was going to remain close, it was for the best that they keep him busy. Otherwise, they were going to be dealing with a lot more bad choices.

Kurt shrugged, leaning back into Papa’s embrace. And although Dave couldn’t tell what was bothering Kurt, he did know how to help him when he got moody.

“We can color. Daddy got you those new sparkle crayons that you wanted to use. Or we can play with your castle. Or we can watch a DVD. Which would you like to do?”

Kurt thought for a moment. “Sparkle crayons,” he finally decided.

“Okay baby. You know where we put them, can you go and get the crayons and some paper?”

Kurt stood up, “You and Daddy color too?” he asked.

“We would love to color with you baby,” Dave told him. Blaine wasn’t quite as enthused; it had been a long weekend of entertaining. But, he wasn’t going to tell Kurt no.

So, they settled onto the floor and began drawing pictures. Kurt was quiet as he focused on the paper in front of him, and he colored for over an hour before Dave finally decided to interrupt him.

Reaching a hand over to touch Kurt’s cheek lightly, he waited until the other man looked up.

“What would you like for dinner baby?” he asked.

Kurt shrugged, returning to his artwork. It was too much of everything today, and he didn’t want to decide. 

Going with what had worked before, Dave began listing options for Kurt. “We can order carry out, or we can cook.”

“Cook,” Kurt mumbled, not looking up.

“Alright. Do you want breakfast for dinner or would you like grilled cheese and soup?”

Going through, they managed to narrow it down to waffles with bacon, and Dave went to the kitchen to cook.

“Pumpkin,” he told him, squatting next to Kurt, “You and Daddy need to clean up soon. So you have ten minutes, and then it’s time for the crayons and paper to go away. Understand?”

Kurt nodded, but he didn’t look up.

“Kurt, look at me so that I know you’re listening.”

Kurt made a face, but he put down his crayon and looked at Papa. “What are you going to do?”

“Ten more minutes then pick up,” Kurt recited.

“Good boy.” Dave went off to cook dinner. At the five minute mark, he yelled out a warning to Kurt. Then, at ten minutes, he hollered again.

“Okay baby, you heard Papa. Time to clean up so we can wash our hands and eat.”

Kurt shook his head. “I’m busy,” he told Daddy.

“No, it’s time to pick up,” Blaine began putting the crayons that Kurt wasn’t using away.

“No, it’s time for me to color,” Kurt replied, holding tightly to the blue crayon in his hand.

“Kurt, you need to listen and help me pick up please,” Blaine tried to keep his voice calm and pleasant. It wasn’t normally that hard, but Kurt was really pushing it tonight.

“I don’t want to.”

Trying to come up with a solution that would maybe work for both of them, Blaine offered a compromise. “If you want to color some more after dinner, we can do that. It means no TV tonight though baby because it’s getting late. Would you like to color after we eat?”

“I would like to color now,” Kurt told him, reaching for the pink crayon that Blaine was holding.

“No Kurt. We’re picking up.”

Kurt kept tugging at Daddy’s hand, trying to get the crayon, “No Daddy. We’re coloring,” he said.

Deciding that he’d tried enough, Blaine gave Kurt a final warning, “You’re going to end up losing your glitter crayons for a week baby. Do you want to listen, or are the crayons going to the no no drawer?”

Kurt glared at Blaine, and then he threw his crayon across the room, “I WANT TO COLOR,” he yelled at Daddy.

Dave came out into the living room. “Is everything okay out here?” he asked.

Blaine nodded his head, “We’re fine. Kurt was just about to pick up that crayon from over there, and then we were going to wash our hands.”

“No I’m NOT!” Kurt yelled.

Dave looked at Blaine, trying to figure out if he needed to help. Before he could ask though, Blaine decided he had had enough.

Standing up, he pulled Kurt to his feet, “You pick that crayon up now or you’re going to bed right after dinner.” He punctuated the threat with several swats.

Realizing that he’d pushed Daddy too far, Kurt hurried to pick up the crayon and return it to Blaine.

Packing up the crayons, Blaine looked at Dave and then Kurt, “These are going into the no no drawer. If Kurt can listen, he can have them back in a week.”

Dave nodded and held his hand out for the crayons. When Kurt saw the crayons actually being taken away, he burst into tears.

Flopping onto the floor, he sobbed hysterically, “Why are you so mean to meeeeeeee?” he wailed.

“Kurt, knock it off,” Blaine told him, nudging Kurt’s side with his toes.

Dave gave him a look, and then settled on the floor next to Kurt, “Pumpkin? Can you look at Papa?”

Blaine rolled his eyes and went to check on dinner. Dave was a pushover when Kurt got like this, and Blaine couldn’t stand watching him.

He busied himself pouring drinks and plating food. When Kurt and Dave entered the kitchen several minutes later, Kurt’s eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying. 

“Go on,” Dave said quietly, nudging Kurt toward Blaine.

Kurt reluctantly shuffled to stand by Blaine. “Sorry Daddy,” he whispered.

Turning to look at him, Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry for what Kurt? Because I’m hearing a lot of sorry today, but I’m not seeing anything that makes me think that you mean it.”

“I do,” Kurt looked at Blaine, his expression wounded.

“Really? Because you broke the lamp, and you apologized. Then you didn’t want to write your lines. Then you didn’t want to put away your crayons. You’re on thin ice little boy.”

Kurt nodded tearfully.

Blaine relented, “Alright. I don’t want to have any more problems tonight though. Understood? Because it will be bedtime if you don’t stop being naughty now. Last warning Kurt.”

Kurt nodded at that, sniffling a little.

“Okay,” looking at Dave, Blaine held out his hand, “May I have the crayons back please?”

Dave handed them over with a puzzled look on his face, and then he grew irritated when he realized what Blaine planned to do.

“Here Kurt,” he handed him the crayons. “Go put them in the no no drawer please.”

Kurt trudged to the drawer and slid the crayons in, and Dave gave Blaine a dirty look. It was all well and good for Daddy to prove his point tonight, but Papa would be dealing with Kurt tomorrow. And being reminded of all the stuff in that drawer was not going end well.

Kurt managed to make it 12 hours without another problem. He was sleeping for nine of them. The next morning, when he woke up, Daddy and Papa were still fast asleep. It was only about 5:30, which was early, even for Kurt.

Nonetheless, he got up. He had been thinking about his sparkle crayons as he fell asleep last night. His sparkle crayons and everything else that was awesome in that drawer. And Papa would be asleep for another 30 minutes.

So Kurt slowly crept out of bed, and cautiously walked to the kitchen. When he got there, he stood in front of the drawer. He kept thinking, “I will not go into the no no drawer.” Writing something 50 times makes it stick. If he got something out of the drawer, Daddy would spank him. Kurt knew that. Papa would too, but odds were good that it would be Daddy just because he was the one who had punished Kurt for it yesterday.

But if he just opened the drawer, that wasn’t bad. He could just look at his crayons. They were beautiful and glittery and completely perfect for his fashion coloring book.

He slid the drawer open slowly, and stared down at them. He could not take them out. He would get spanked if he did. Daddy had been serious yesterday; Kurt knew that he’d pushed Blaine just about as far as he could without getting into big trouble.

But touching the crayons wasn’t taking them out of the drawer. Touching them wasn’t bad. He drew one finger over the nearest crayon, considering what he would color with them if he could. 

“Next week,” he thought to himself. “Next week, I’ll have them back. I just have to behave myself.”

He resolutely slid the drawer shut. He didn’t want the crayons gone forever, and Daddy liked to do stuff like that when Kurt disobeyed. He wasn’t sure where his superball was, but it might as well have been Mars for Kurt. It was gone.

He stood in front of the drawer, thinking. Looking at the clock, Kurt saw that it was 5:35. If he took the crayons right now, he could color for a little while. Daddy and Papa would never know. 

Opening the drawer back up, he picked up the crayons and went to get a coloring book. He just had to keep an eye on the clock. 

Sitting down at the kitchen counter, Kurt colored. He loved these crayons. Once Kurt finished the first picture, he looked at the clock. 

It was 5:55. He should put the crayons away. Deciding that it was better to have to use his normal crayons for a while than to get caught, he quickly slipped the glitter crayons back into the no no drawer. Then he sat down with his regular crayons.

Daddy came out soon after.

“Morning baby,” he told him, giving Kurt a kiss.

“Morning. Where’s Papa?”

“Sleeping; he couldn’t last night. What shall we have for breakfast?”

They ate together. By the time Blaine was ready to go to work, Dave had gotten up. He wasn’t looking forward to today with Kurt. If yesterday had been any indication, it wasn’t going to be fun.

Kurt did not disappoint. He was moody and defiant all day, and Dave finally sent him to take a nap after lunch. 

That didn’t go over well, and Dave ended up having to spank Kurt before he’d go to bed. Once he’d tucked the still crying boy under the sheets, he gave him a kiss on the forehead and then went out to the living room, where he collapsed on the couch.

There was laundry to do still, and Dave wanted to start dinner as well. The chicken needed to marinate. Even as he thought that, he turned on the television. He needed to relax.

So he watched daytime TV for about 20 minutes, until he was interrupted by Kurt shrieking again. Like yesterday, when he got into the bedroom, Kurt was fast asleep still. 

Dave woke him up, and Kurt clung to him, crying. Dave rocked slowly, murmuring nonsense. When Kurt finally calmed down enough to talk, he tried asking again.

“Baby, what was your dream about?”

Kurt shook his head, lips pressed together firmly.

“Pumpkin, please tell me. This is the second day in a row you’ve had the nightmare. You’re acting naughty. Why don’t you tell me, and then we can fix it.”

Kurt shook his head again, “You can’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Dave smiled at him. “I’m good at fixing stuff. Why don’t you try me?”

Despite Dave’s best efforts, Kurt wasn’t budging. He didn’t want to tell Papa, and he wasn’t going to.

“Okay,” Dave finally gave in. “Are you ready to get up?” 

He’d wanted Kurt to nap longer, but he figured that wasn’t going to happen. Kurt followed him out into the apartment, and he spent the rest of the day tripping over him as Dave moved around trying to cook dinner and do laundry.

He was relieved when Daddy came home, and Kurt would go to him. Blaine spent his evening cuddling with a quiet little boy on the couch. Blaine tried his hand at getting Kurt to talk about the nightmares, but Kurt wouldn’t.

Finally, frustrated and out of options, Blaine decided that Kurt would have an early night. In spite of Kurt’s teary protests, an early bath was followed by a diaper and a bottle. And then Papa and Daddy left him in bed.

Blaine and Dave sat out on the couch together. Blaine had made them both tea, and they tried to figure out what was going on.

“He was fine until your parents left,” Blaine said.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think they said something?”

Dave shook his head. 

“Come here,” Blaine pushed and pulled at Dave until they were nestled together. “I’m not blaming them.”

“I know. I just don’t think they did. Of the two of you, they’re less likely to say anything to Kurt. They remember him from before, and they know Carol pretty well.”

Blaine nodded, and they lapsed into silence. Which was interrupted by the sound of shuffling pajamaed feet. 

“Hey pumpkin,” Dave said quietly, holding out his arm.

Kurt, rubbing his eyes wearily, walked over to the couch. He had Beau Bunny tucked in his right arm, and he was sucking on his fingers. His blanket was thrown over his shoulders like a cape.

“What happened?” Blaine asked him, helping Kurt settle in between their bodies.

Kurt nodded, nestling against both of them. “I had bad dream,” he slurred.

Dave tensed a little. Kurt was half-asleep, which meant he was more malleable. Not wanting to wake him up fully, he forced himself to relax.

“You did?” Blaine said sympathetically.

“I waked up and you weren’t here,” Kurt mumbled. “I called and called, but nobody came.”

“That sounds scary,” Daddy told him.

“Why weren’t you here?”

Papa rubbed Kurt’s arm gently, “Because it was a bad dream. See? You woke up, and we were waiting out here for you.”

“Don’t go ‘way,” Kurt mumbled, his eyes closing as he fell back asleep.

“We won’t,” Blaine murmured, watching him closely. Once he was certain that Kurt was well and truly asleep, he made eye contact with Dave. “So, something about us leaving I guess?”

“I guess,” Dave said, distractedly playing with Kurt’s hair. “We should go to bed. He’ll be up a 6:00 again tomorrow.”

Blaine helped shift Kurt off of Dave, and Papa carried Kurt to bed. They slept tangled together, and Kurt didn’t wake either of them with more nightmares.

He did have the nightmare again though. And when he woke up, gasping, at 5:30, he crept out of bed again. And back to the kitchen, where he looked at the forbidden drawer. He had gotten away with it yesterday, why not see what else was in there today.

The crayons were tempting, but Kurt was more interested in the candy. He hated that they put the candy away in here, as though he couldn’t make reasonable decisions about eating it. 

In retaliation for this lack of trust, Kurt settled himself at the counter and calmly ate ¾ of a large bag of Sour Patch Kids. He just managed to get the bag back into the drawer before Papa came out.

“Morning baby,” Dave murmured, kissing him. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Nothing,” Kurt said. And he didn’t. He wasn’t feeling hungry now because of all of the candy.

“Sorry, we don’t know how to cook that,” Blaine replied as he came in behind Dave. 

“I’m not hungry,” Kurt whined, laying his head on the table.

Dave wanted to go back to bed. It was going to be another day like yesterday, and he could feel himself getting a headache. Instead, he leaned on the counter and began going through Kurt’s options.

“Hot or cold breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry,” Kurt insisted.

“Last chance Kurt, hot or cold?”

Begrudgingly, Kurt sat up and told him, “Hot.”

“Sweet or salty?”

Kurt laid his head back down, “I don’t know. I don’t want anything,” he whined.

Dave wanted to give him another shot, but Blaine didn’t want this to take all morning. He had to leave soon, and he didn’t want Dave being left with a pouting little boy all day.

“I think eggs sound great, don’t you?” he asked.

“No,” Kurt said angrily.

“Sorry precious, I was asking Papa.” Blaine used that deliberately dismissive voice that Kurt loathed.

Kurt wanted to kick the cupboards in front of him, but he managed to restrain himself. Instead, he sat pouting, waiting. When Papa placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, Kurt picked. He really wasn’t hungry; the candy he had eaten had made him feel a little bit sick.

“Eat,” Daddy didn’t sound like he was going to debate breakfast any further.

“I’m not hungry,” Kurt whined.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, “Did I ask if you were?”

Kurt made a face, “No.”

“Then eat the eggs Papa made you.”

Kurt thought about that for a minute. Then, looking at Daddy, and he shoved his plate. It flew across the counter, breaking on the floor.

Kurt may have thrown his food to prove a point to Daddy, but he really should have anticipated that he was going to get a response from Papa. Dave was next to Kurt in under 10 seconds, and he was being swatted to the corner immediately.

He yelped and tried to pull away to no avail. “Stop!” he shrieked. “Stop!!!! Papa stop!”

“You stop Kurt,” Dave said, giving his shoulder a shake as he deposited Kurt in the corner. “You’ve been being naughty for the last two days, and we’ve had enough. Now, you can stay in time out until Daddy or I tell you to move. Is that clear?”

Kurt didn’t respond, too busy crying.

“I said,” Dave’s voice was low, “Is. That. Clear.”

Kurt nodded, “Yes,” he said quietly.

Blaine had stood to pick up the plate, but Dave stopped him. “Kurt’s going to take care of that when he gets out of time out.”

Blaine looked at Dave, surprised, but he sat back down to eat breakfast. Once they were finished, he kissed Dave quickly. 

“I’ve got to go to work. You’re going to be okay?” he said quietly.

Dave nodded, “See you at 6:00.”

When Kurt heard the door shut without Blaine stopping by for a kiss, he started crying harder. Daddy always gave him a good bye kiss. Even if he was sleeping, Blaine never left without kissing him good bye.

Dave tried to ignore it; Blaine was much better at that than he was. He could only make it five minutes before he was ushering Kurt out of the corner and into the living room. Sitting together in an oversized chair, he waited Kurt out, simply carding his fingers through Kurt’s hair and waiting.

“My tummy hurts,” Kurt finally told him.

Dave nodded at that, “Sometimes, crying makes your tummy hurt.”

“No, it hurted before.”

Dave thought for a moment, and then he asked, “Do you think maybe your tummy needs some food?”

Kurt shook his head, “No. It doesn’t want food.”

“Are you sick?”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he shook his head no. Sick meant staying in bed all day. No playing on the floor with Papa or making cookies. Naps and early bedtime. Not to mention that Daddy had bought a baby thermometer when Kurt had bronchitis, and Kurt did not like it when they took his temperature like that.

Dave stopped playing with Kurt’s hair, resting his hand on Kurt’s stomach instead. “What do you think is making your tummy hurt then?”

Kurt knew exactly what was making his stomach hurt, and he did not want to tell Papa that it was candy. Because Papa was not going to think that eating that much sugar before anybody else was even awake was a good idea.

Kurt shrugged, and Dave stood up, shifting Kurt to the side. 

“Stay here baby. I’m going to make you something to help your tummy.”

That was disturbingly vague, and Kurt didn’t want to be left alone. Holding his arms out, he whined at Papa.

“Don’t wanna be here all by myself,” he told him.

Unable to ignore that, Dave picked Kurt up. Resting him on one hip, he walked into the kitchen. 

“You need to sit in your chair while I fix your bottle,” he said, putting Kurt down.

Kurt listened, and he watched Papa puttering around the kitchen. While the kettle was on, Papa knelt to pick up his mess, and Kurt blushed. He didn’t know why he did stuff like that.

Once the water was hot, Papa set some tea to steep. Smiling at Kurt, he pulled a banana out of the bowl on the counter and sliced it up. Handing him the banana on a plate, he nodded.

“Why don’t you try to eat that baby?”

“My tummy really doesn’t want anything Papa,” Kurt said.

“I know. Just half of that. For me?”

Kurt sighed, but he slowly chewed and swallowed the banana chunks, waiting for his tea. When that was ready, Papa poured it into one of the bottles. Picking Kurt up, they went back out to the living room and settled back into their chair. Papa was quiet while he fed Kurt the ginger tea, and Kurt just stared up at him, thinking.

When the tea was half gone, Kurt spit the nipple out. “Daddy’s mad at me,” he whispered, upset.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you throw temper tantrums.”

Kurt nodded, sliding his fingers into his mouth.

“Do you know why you were upset this morning?”

Kurt shrugged.

They lapsed into silence, Papa tugging Kurt’s fingers out of his mouth so the rest of the bottle could be finished. When that was done, Papa played with Kurt’s hair and they cuddled for a while.

“I think that maybe a little nap might help,” Papa told Kurt. 

“I’m not sleepy,” Kurt told him, snuggling against Papa’s chest.

“Then you can lay quietly for me.”

Kurt, clingier than usual, shook his head, “Don’t want to be all by myself Papa,” he told him, clutching Dave’s shirt tightly in his hands.

Dave smiled. As awful as it might sound, Dave kind of loved clingy Kurt. He was so sweet and little like this.

“What if Papa lays down with you?” he asked, “Will you take a nap with me?”

After thinking for a moment, Kurt asked him, “You promise you stay with me? You don’t go nowhere?”

“I’ll stay pumpkin,” Papa struggled to his feet, still holding Kurt. 

“Promise,” Kurt insisted.

Dave lay Kurt down in the unmade bed, and then settled next to him, “I promise. You and me and Beau Bunny. Alright?”

Kurt nodded. “You tell me a story?” he begged shamelessly.

“Tell you what,” Dave bargained, “I’ll tell you one story, but you have to promise to close your eyes and try to take a nap for me. Deal?” Pulling the covers over them, he hoped that this would work.

Kurt smiled. Daddy did not make deals, but Papa did. “K Papa. I want to hear my story though,” he stipulated.

Dave smiled, playing with Kurt’s hair. “Close your eyes pumpkin,” he instructed quietly.

Closing his eyes, Kurt sucked on his fingers and rubbed his blanket against his nose. With Beau Bunny sandwiched between them, he listened to Papa.

“It was the first day of Miss Bantam’s class, and I was afraid to go to school. I’d gone to preschool, but that had been three months ago, and I didn’t want to have to go to kindergarten because it was in the same school with the big first graders.”

Kurt gave a little sigh of contentment, smiling around his fingers.

“So, I was sitting at a table, trying not to cry, when the most beautiful little boy I’d ever seen came to sit next to me.”

Kurt’s eyes opened, and he spoke around his fingers, “Me Papa. It was me.”

“Shhh. Close your eyes.” Waiting until Kurt complied, he continued, “So, my beautiful Kurt came to sit next to me, and he offered to share his cookie with me.”

“I baked them with my mommy,” Kurt mumbled, eyes closed. He was half-asleep already.

“Shhhh. You’re supposed to be trying to sleep.”

Kurt nodded slowly, “Am Papa.”

Dave pulled back a little so that he could give Kurt a look, “Little boys who are trying to sleep are quiet,” he warned.

“Sorry,” Kurt whispered drowsily. 

“And you shared half of your chocolate chip cookie with me, and I thought that maybe, kindergarten wouldn’t be so bad if I could be friends with you. And when I went home, I told my mom that I’d met the most wonderful boy in the whole world, and that you had shared your snack with me; I told her that they were the best chocolate chip cookies I’d ever eaten, and you were going to be my new best friend..” 

Dave paused, looking at Kurt, who was now fast asleep. He lay still for a while, but he needed to finish cleaning up from breakfast. Rationalizing that he could finish cleaning up and then come back immediately, he slipped out from under Kurt’s arm and went to the kitchen.

He almost made it, but Kurt had the nightmare again. Running to the bedroom, Dave woke Kurt up. 

“Shhhh Shhhh baby. Wake up. Papa’s here. I’ve got you.” 

Kurt clung to Dave, sobbing hysterically. “You went away. You went away,” he kept saying.

“No pumpkin. I was just in the kitchen baby. I promise; I didn’t leave you.”

Kurt couldn’t calm down, and Dave pulled him onto his lap so he could hold him still. Rocking them both, he tried to figure out what to say. It took a while, but he finally figured it out.

He had to wait until Kurt stopped crying, but he was ready once that happened.

“Kurt,” he was quiet, but he kept his voice firm. “You need to tell Papa what your nightmare was about.”

Kurt shook his head emphatically, “No.”

“Yes,” Dave told him. “We’re going to talk about what’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to,” Kurt whined, trying to push himself away from Papa.

Dave captured Kurt’s hands and held him still, “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. If we have to sit here until you’re ready, that’s fine. But we’re not doing anything until you tell me. And if we have to do this tomorrow, then that’s what we’ll do. And the day after. Until you tell me.”

Kurt settled down, pouting now. He wanted to ask Papa about eating and the bathroom, but he sincerely doubted that he would like the answer.

However, knowing Papa, Kurt thought there was a good chance that he could simply wait him out. If he could get this fixed by the time Daddy got home, he’d win.

Unfortunately for Kurt, Dave was willing to wait. He could do it; he’d been watching Blaine for a while now. It couldn’t be that hard.

Dave was wrong. It was excruciating. He hated every single minute of it. But, like Kurt, he knew that if he could make it until Blaine went home, it would work. Kurt wouldn’t be able to out-stubborn both of them.

At 2:00, he decided they both needed to eat. Considering his options, he stood up. 

“You’re going to stay right here,” he instructed, “I’m going to go and make us lunch. If you move a muscle Kurt, I’m going to spank your bottom. Understood?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kurt flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Yes,” he bratted.

“Thank you.”

Dave hurried to the kitchen and threw sandwiches together. As he was doing that, he kept his cell to his ear. 

“Pick up pick up pick up,” he chanted, waiting for Blaine. “Thank God,” he greeted his boyfriend.

“I love you too?” Blaine sounded amused.

“No. I mean, I love you, but I need help.”

“What’s up? Is Kurt okay?”

“Fine. Pouting in bed. I told him we’re staying there until he tells me what these nightmares are about, but I needed to tell you that.”

“Why?” Blaine was confused now.

Dave sighed, “Because if I don’t, I’ll crack. If I tell you, then I have to follow through even when he opens his eyes so wide he looks like a freaking cartoon character.”

Blaine smiled, settling into his desk chair, “Stay strong. You’re doing the right thing. If you can make it until I get home, I’ll take over for the evening.”

“Thank you,” Dave breathed. 

“I love you. You’re doing the right thing.”

“I love you too,” Dave loaded sandwiches on to plates, “I’ll see you at 6:00.”

“I’ll be home by 4:30,” Blaine promised.

“I really love you,” Dave replied.

Hanging up, he carried the sandwiches to the bedroom. He handed one to Kurt. 

“Eat,” Papa instructed.

“I’m not hungry.” Kurt was lying, but he didn’t want to do anything Dave wanted him to do at the moment.

“Eat it now, or after I spank you.”

Glaring at the sandwich in his lap like it was the cause of all of his woes, Kurt took a bite. 

“You know,” Dave said, watching Kurt carefully, “We could have fun before Daddy gets home. You’re going to have to tell one of us eventually. Why not just do it now?”

“Don’t have to,” Kurt said, refusing to make eye contact.

“Kurt,” Dave sighed. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t want to,” Kurt said, enunciating each word carefully.

Dave had reached the end of his (limited) patience. “Kurt, you can either tell me, or you can go sit on the naughty stool. In the living room. And you’ll stay there until you tell me.”

Kurt glared at Dave, “That’s not fair! Telling you my secrets isn’t part of you being Papa. You and Daddy are just being bossy.”

“Last chance pumpkin,” Dave warned.

When that didn’t do anything, he stood up, sighing. Taking Kurt by the hand, he led him out to the naughty stool. 

When Kurt tried to climb up himself, Papa stopped him. He wanted to strip Kurt’s pajama pants off of him first. Then, not waiting for Kurt to move, Papa picked him up and settled him onto the stool.

To top off this indignity, Dave forced himself to go and sit on the couch. Watching Kurt, he waited.

As much as Kurt hated the naughty stool, and sitting half dressed in the living room, and being watched while he was in time out as though he were an irresponsible four year who couldn’t be trusted, he made it for almost 40 minutes before he finally cracked.

“You and Daddy are gone,” he whispered.

Stifling a sigh of relief, Dave said, “Why don’t you come over here?”

Kurt shook his head no, “I wake up, and you and Daddy are gone. I’m all by myself; it’s scary Papa.”

“It sounds scary,” Dave intentionally lowered his voice.

Kurt turned to look at Dave, “Why you guys aren’t there?” he said, his eyes filling with tears.

Dave sighed, standing up and walking to Kurt, “We are though baby. It’s just a bad dream. It’s scary, but it isn’t real.”

Kurt nodded, “It feels real though Papa. It feels really really real, and I don’t like it.”

Wrapping his arms around Kurt, Dave hugged him, “It feels real, but it isn’t. It’s just a scary dream. When you wake up, Daddy and I are always there.”

“Sometimes Daddy leaves ‘fore I get up though, if I sleep in. And he’s not there.”

That made Dave wonder if possibly, Kurt’s increasingly early mornings were an attempt to make sure he got to see Blaine before he left for work. He should talk to him about it.

Dave nodded, “Sometimes. We can tell him not to do that anymore though baby.”

“I’m not ‘llowed to tell Daddy not to do stuff. He spanks me when I do,” Kurt pouted, leaning into Dave.

“He does, but I think that if we both tell him, we’ll be fine.” Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he continued, “I don’t think that Daddy will spank me.”

Kurt turned, holding out his arms to be picked up. Dave obliged, and he carried Kurt to the couch where he wrapped them both up in an afghan. 

Kurt wouldn’t make eye contact, instead playing with Papa’s fingers, “You tell him?” he said wheedlingly.

Dave smiled at Kurt, hugging him tightly, “I’ll tell him,” he agreed. 

With that settled, they sat in silence on the couch, waiting for Daddy to come home. Dave didn’t feel that he really knew what was going on, but at least they knew for certain what the dream was about. Maybe having Blaine not leave early would be enough to help.

Blaine, who had an awful afternoon, blew through the door at 4:30. And although he was happy to see that Kurt was no longer stuck in bed, he was still in a bad mood.

A mood that could only be fixed with sugar. Going into the kitchen to grab his stash of candy, he was surprised when he found only ¼ of what had been a full bag of Sour Patch Kids. And Dave hated sour candy.

Stalking out into the living room, he held the bag in one hand. “Any chance that you weren’t hungry because you’d been eating candy this morning Kurt?” he asked, his tone tart.

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he pressed back against Dave. Daddy was mad, and Kurt was more than a little nervous. Especially since he was sitting half-naked on Papa’s lap.

He didn’t know what to say to Daddy that would help this situation, and Blaine took his silence for the admission of guilt that it was.

Pulling Kurt up by one hand, he smacked Kurt hard, “Go sit on the naughty stool. Now.”

Kurt did as he was told, hands held protectively over his backside. Daddy was furious; Blaine did not take it well when he tried to be nice to Kurt, and then Kurt did the exact same naughty thing. He did not take it well at all.

And as Kurt sat on the stool, twisting his hands together, waiting, Blaine sat next to Dave. “He told me,” Dave said, voice low enough that Kurt couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Blaine nodded.

“Bad dreams about us leaving him.”

“So what we figured last night?” Blaine raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“He admitted it though now,” Dave pointed out.

Blaine made a face at that, “He’s about to be admitting a lot more. He apparently has decided that he can disobey us, and I’m not going to have it.”

Sitting up, he called Kurt over. Waiting until Kurt was standing in front of him, Blaine held up the bag of candy, “What did I tell you about the no no drawer?”

Kurt, his hands creeping toward his mouth, mumbled an answer, “Not for little boys.”

“That’s right. And what did you tell me on Sunday when you took something out of it?”

“I wouldn’t go in again,” Kurt’s eyes were full of tears, and looked at Blaine, “I’m sorry Daddy. Really.”

“I don’t want to hear it Kurt,” Blaine said, irritated as he pulled the other boy over his knee, “You said you were sorry on Sunday. And I cut you some slack because I wanted to be nice. You earned this spanking.”

He didn’t bother to say anything else. He was too angry at Kurt right now. Blaine hated it when he tried to be a nice Daddy and Kurt acted up. And he was very thorough in making that point to Kurt.

Dave watched, wanting to intervene, as Blaine spanked Kurt. His poor baby, who had already been a little sore just from all the spankings and warning swats from the last several days, was soon wailing and begging.

“I’m really sorry Daddy,” he cried out. “I really really am. Please don’t.”

Blaine bit his tongue, knowing that Dave wouldn’t be happy if he told Kurt what he thought of his apology. Instead, he spanked just a little bit harder, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he watched Kurt collapse in tearful apologies.

Putting Kurt back on his feet, Blaine pointed to the corner, “You can go and sit yourself in time out.”

Kurt held out his arms for a hug, but Blaine simply pointed again, “Naughty stool Kurt. You don’t want me to tell you again.”

Sobbing, Kurt went over to the corner and pulled himself up on the stool. It was every bit as uncomfortable as ever, and he couldn’t stop crying from a combination of the physical discomfort of the spanking and the ache deep in his chest. He hated when he felt like this. He hated to know that Blaine was upset with him.

It was never as bad with Dave. Papa got mad at Kurt, but it never made Kurt feel so horribly naughty. 

Blaine had planned on starting time out once Kurt was quiet, but Dave didn’t give him the chance. Instead, he watched the clock closely, rushing to Kurt’s side as soon as the 25 minutes were up.

“Come here baby,” Papa said quietly, helping Kurt off of the stool. “I think it’s time for a bath and some new jammies.”

Kurt, still crying, turned to look at Daddy. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Papa’s comfort; it just wasn’t what he needed right then.

Unfortunately for Kurt, Blaine was in too foul of a mood to give him what he needed, and Kurt found himself being ushered into the bathroom by Papa. He was quiet, other than sniffling and the occasional hiccup. Obediently, he raised and lowered his arms and tipped his head back so Papa could wash and rinse his hair.

When that was over, he lay down on the bed, not arguing about what he figured was the inevitable diaper. He lifted his hips without complaint, staring at Dave with teary eyes.

Dave, wanting to make Kurt smile and be happy again, cast about desperately for something to make that happen. He leaned over, blowing a raspberry on Kurt’s tummy.

It got a giggle, and Kurt curled up like a roly poly. He was extremely ticklish. But almost immediately, Kurt straightened back out and lay still, watching Papa again.

Grabbing Beau, Dave handed him to Kurt, “Do you want Beau Bunny?” he asked him.

Kurt nodded, “Thank you Papa,” he whispered. After hesitating for a minute, he continued, “May I please have a pacifier too.”

“You want your binky tonight baby?” Kurt never asked for a pacifier; he always preferred the familiar comfort of his fingers.

Kurt nodded, “Yes please.” He didn’t. He wanted Daddy to cuddle with him while he sucked on his fingers and rubbed his blanket, but Blaine preferred that he use a pacifier. He didn’t argue about Kurt sucking on his fingers, but he still thought it was gross.

Frowning, Dave gave Kurt the pacifier. He wanted to make his stupid boyfriend come into the bedroom and stop being such a jackass. Since he couldn’t do that, he tried to fix what he could.

“Which jammies do you want baby?” he asked. Kurt loved being allowed to pick out his own clothes, and having his pajamas chosen for him was a sign of disgrace.

Rubbing at Beau’s ears, Kurt shrugged, “Whichever Papa.”

Not wanting to have an argument, Dave picked the pajamas that he thought Kurt would like best. His baby held still as he was dressed, and then he lay on the bed, waiting.

“Are you going to come and have dinner?” Papa teased gently.

“Am I ‘llowed? Or do I gotta go to bed early?” Kurt said around the pacifier.

Dave sat on the bed and pulled Kurt into his lap. “You got into trouble for going into the no no drawer Kurt; it was naughty. So Daddy spanked you and gave you time out. But your punishment is over now. You are not in trouble anymore.”

Kurt nodded, but he didn’t believe Papa. Taking Dave’s hand, he followed him out into the living room. Daddy still wouldn’t cuddle with him, and a tearful Kurt followed Dave into the kitchen. 

He was quiet during dinner, eating and drinking everything without complaint. When the meal was over, Dave took Kurt back into the living room. 

“I want you to pick out a movie for us.”

Kurt nodded, worrying his lip with his teeth. Giving him another hug, Dave went back into the kitchen to deal with his other bratty boyfriend.

Closing the door, Dave kept his voice low. “What the hell Blaine?” he asked.

“What?” Blaine said defensively, not looking at Dave.

“Don’t what me Blaine Anderson,” Dave warned, sounding a lot like he did when Kurt was naughty. “You have a very upset little boy looking at movies out there, desperate for you to hug him and tell him that you’re not angry anymore.”

Giving Dave a look, Blaine defended himself. “I told him on Sunday to stay out of that drawer. If feeling guilty makes him stop misbehaving, I don’t think there’s a problem with it.”

Knowing how Blaine was when he dug in his heels, Dave rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you’re being an asshole.” With that, he left the kitchen and returned to Kurt.

“What are we watching baby?” he said, smiling at Kurt.

Kurt held out two DVDs for Papa to look at. “Is Daddy watching with us?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Kurt nodded, trying not to cry again. “I think maybe I just want to go to bed Papa. I’m tired.”

“Pumpkin, it’s early still,” Dave tried to come up with the right thing to say. He didn’t want to lie to Kurt, but he didn’t want to undermine Blaine’s authority either.

“I’m sleepy.”

With a sigh, Dave nodded, “Alright. Why don’t you go climb into bed, and I’ll make you a bottle?”

Kurt did as requested. He remained quiet while Papa gave him his night-time bottle, which had been laced liberally with crushed benadryl. He didn’t like to do that, but Kurt needed to actually sleep tonight. And between the nightmares and Blaine, Papa figured this was the best way to accomplish that.

Kurt slept, a deep, drugged sleep. He had the nightmares, but he didn’t wake up. Not even when Blaine got up and left for work.

He was quiet, subdued, when he finally awoke. He didn’t cry when he saw that Daddy had left already, but he spent the morning coloring angry pictures, jagged lines of black and browns across paper.

When Papa sent him to take a nap, he went without protest. Dave decided to lay down with Kurt, worried about him having the nightmare again.

Watching Kurt sleep, he waited. It only took half an hour, and Kurt was thrashing and moaning again.

Dave gently shook Kurt’s shoulder. “Wake up baby. It’s okay. Papa’s here. Wake up.”

Kurt whined, curling himself up and talking quietly, “No no. No please,” he mumbled.

“Pumpkin, wake up. Papa’s here; you’re safe. Wake up,” pulling Kurt against him, he held him tightly.

“Papa?” Kurt said. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Hi baby,” Dave smiled at him. “It’s not time for Daddy to come home yet. You were just taking a nap.”

Kurt struggled up, trying to unwind himself from the blankets, “We need to call Daddy,” he said, his voice tinged with panic. “We have to Papa.”

“Okay okay,” Dave tried to calm him down.

“Now Papa. Pleeeeease,” Kurt was becoming even more frantic.

Dave nodded and grabbed a phone, “Why do we need to call Daddy?”

“I need to. I need to talk to him. Please Papa? I promise I’ll be good, but I gotta talk to him.”

Handing Kurt the phone, Dave watched him, worried. His concern grew when Blaine didn’t pick up the phone, and Kurt started crying.

“Call me. Please Blaine, you have to call me. I’m sorry about yesterday,” he was babbling, and Dave gently removed the phone from his grip.

Hanging up, he held Kurt and rocked him, “It’s okay baby. Daddy’s just in a meeting or something. He’ll call when he gets out.”

“He- I need to talk to him now Papa. Right now!” Kurt was freaking out, and Dave couldn’t figure out why.

“Baby, why do you need to talk to Daddy now? Explain it to me.”

Burying his face against Papa’s chest, Kurt shook his head no. 

“Tell me Kurt Elizabeth. Now.” Dave forced himself to sound stern; it was hard with Kurt so upset.

“He left,” Kurt finally whispered. “He left for work, and he was mad at me, and he didn’t give me a kiss good bye.”

Rubbing his back, Dave responded, “He was mad, but I bet he won’t be by the time he gets home. And we’re going to tell him today that he’s not allowed to leave without telling you good bye and giving you a kiss.”

Avoiding eye contact, Kurt traced patterns on Dave’s chest. “When Mommy left...she didn’t tell me good bye.”

Dave remained silent, but the pieces started to fall into place.

Kurt had paused, but he continued when Dave didn’t fill the empty space. “I’d been bad, and Mommy had sent me to bed without dinner. Then, she left for her book club.” He swallowed hard. “When I woke up, they told me she wasn’t coming home. Not ever again.”

Dave was silently cursing himself. He remembered when Kurt’s mother died. They’d been in the second grade, in the same class. Kurt had missed a week of school after the car accident, and everyone treated him differently after she died.

He’d been different when he finally returned to school. Dave didn’t know how to explain it really, but he remembered. The Kurt who had left the Thursday afternoon before his mother died had been different from the other kids. He’d preferred playing with the girls, and he had talked about weird stuff. He’d also been unabashedly infatuated with his mother. According to Kurt, she was brilliant and beautiful. And the world’s best baker.

The Kurt who came back, he was harder. He still played with the girls and talked about weird stuff, but he didn’t cry. Not once. He’d gone through his days quietly, following all of the school’s rules, and he never mentioned her again. 

“Kurt, we aren’t ever going to leave you. Do you understand? Daddy and I are never going to leave. Even if you’re naughty. It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t know that,” Kurt spoke haltingly, but his voice was angry now.

Dave didn’t respond to that. Kurt was right; his mother never would have left given the choice, but people didn’t always have a choice about leaving.

He was saved from formulating a response by his cell phone ringing. Looking at the display, he sighed in relief. It was Blaine.

“Stay here,” he ordered Kurt. Stepping out of the room, he answered the phone. 

“You are going to talk to your baby and tell him that you aren’t angry anymore. Do you understand me?”

“Hi honey, I love you too,” Blaine said dryly.

“Bite me Blaine. I’ve got a terrified kid in there; he’s convinced that you’re going to leave because he was bad. So you’re going to get your ass home to him to convince him that you’re never going to do that. Or I’m going to kick the crap out of you.”

“Okay okay,” Blaine said. “I’ll tell him I’m not mad anymore.”

“And this withholding crap is over too Blaine. It’s not fair to him. You punish him, and it’s over. You don’t keep making him feel bad about it.”

“What’s going on today?”

Turning away from the closed door, Dave lowered his voice, “His mom died Blaine. She died and left a scared little eight year old. And he’s convinced that he did something, and that’s why she died. So you’re going to quit being an asshole, or I’m going to hurt you.”

Blaine dropped into his desk chair, “Give him the phone,” he said quietly, feeling guilty.

“You’re going to be a good Daddy now? Because I’m not kidding about hurting you.”

“Give him the damn phone so I can apologize.”

Somewhat satisfied, Dave took the phone in to Kurt. “Daddy wants to talk to you pumpkin.”

Kurt sat up, taking the phone with trembling hands. As soon as he got it to his ears, his apologies poured out, “I’m really sorry Daddy. I won’t ever ever ever do that again. I promise. I’m sorry I was naughty, but I’ll be good now.”

Dave was watching them talk; he didn’t know what Blaine said, but Kurt’s entire body relaxed.

“You’re not mad anymore?” he said, almost whispering it.

He smiled when Blaine responded. After a few more minutes of discussion, Kurt hung up the phone and smiled at Papa.

“Daddy’s coming home early, and he said we can go and get dinner!” Kurt bounced a little, still seated.

“He did?” Dave smiled at him, brushing hair away from his face, “That sounds like fun. What should we do while we wait?”

Looking at Papa hopefully, Kurt asked, “Can we bake cookies Papa? Daddy won’t be home for another hour at least.”

Standing up, Papa pulled Kurt onto his hip. “What kind of cookies should we make? Peanut butter?” It was almost always peanut butter, Blaine’s favorite.

Leaning in to Papa, Kurt gave him an eskimo kiss, “No Papa,” he told him. “We should make chocolate chip.”


End file.
